winter

three minutes til it’s come and gone again. another season slipped; what will the next one bring? I hope I’ll still remember things that made me smile today. <<

between stucco and miracle

on the walk home from the Asian grocer this afternoon.

they smelt wonderful. <<

alpenglow, s. carey

it’s a little scary how quickly I’ve slipped between worlds. I don’t quite know if I’ll ever come to terms with the passing of days into months. two years in a heartbeat and a catalogue of faces and laughs I still miss. a constantly revolving cast of characters, with all but a handful slipping in and out with the seasons. I’ll try to keep score and smile in the face of it all. <<

rain

my first storm in my new home. I’ll fall asleep thinking of England. I can think of worse ways to close the day.

lavender

a new friend from across the quad gave me some lavender for my room. it reminds me of home.

I’m wearing my mood ring again, and trying keep Sunday’s study free. it’s warm here, and I doubt I’ll be ready for the heat in summer. going gently where I can, knowing how lucky I am. <<

walking to the supermarket

the most wonderful time of the day. <<

cogs

the cogs are turning and I’m back in a space that demands productivity. though my mind is exhausted, I remind myself how lucky I am to be meeting new people and finding friends in their smiles. this new world is pretty, and I’m finding different joys to treasure in the midst of madness.

this is my new campus, where I’ll be studying if the lockdowns end. it looks like a castle and reminds me of England.

this is a lane off the street where I live. I liked the colours of the end of the day through the tree branches.

this is a view from the quad of my new home. my side doesn’t catch the sun - but it’s okay, there’s a deck on the roof with a hammoc and chairs. it’s a special place, this hidden society of plants and procrastinators. I’m learning to feel at home here, and the new friends are helping.

trying to stay on top of things and present. the missing continues, though it always has. one day at a time. <<

Sunday

I think it’s slowly becoming home. there are some really kind people here, and though it’s taking time, I realise how lucky I am to be in this position. I briefly caught the sun today. reasons to smile in different places. Sundays are very precious.

Italy

two years ago I was with family in Rauscedo. it feels like it might have been a couple of months ago in some alternate reality. there’s so much I miss, and though I know time passes as it should, I still struggle to accept it all as fair.

adjusting to this new world will take time. these people are already so familiar with life here, and perhaps with time I’ll be joining them in feeling truly at home. I think of home, of Italy and Lewes, and I’m not quite sure what I’m doing or where it is I’m going. trying to move gently and be kind, to myself and those around me. one day at a time. <<

learn more

classes start tomorrow (today, it’s a little late). I’m slowly feeling more at home here - and I count myself lucky to have found this oasis amidst the madness of this new world I’ve flown into. the thought of committing to learning again - starting from scratch - is a little overwhelming. I’m lucky to have faith vested in me from all over, and I’ll keep trying to believe in myself in the same way they do.

we’ve been playing the same card game I’d always lose at Millie’s sharehouse, but it has a different name here. it rained on my walk to the supermarket this afternoon, and I enjoyed the quiet laziness of the sounds. the glumness is beautiful sometimes.

I’m starting the learning again. I’ll try to be more present this time, though I’m still missing so much and continue to overwhelm myself. ‘one day at a time’, I promise I’ll try. at least in the midst of it all I’m making myself a new home. <<

in transit

the mattress is ‘in transit’. I hope it comes soon. I’ve been decorating the new room slowly, and I’m excited to move in. lovely people here. I’m reminded a lot of friends I miss from the last time I sought out a new home. unsure of where this is all going, though I know I’m lucky, and I promise I’ll be grateful today and tomorrow. <<

another place

my mattress isn’t here yet but there’s people, and lots of them are lovely. the place makes me miss Lewes, though it’s my new home. I’ll take every day as a gift. <<

gate 4 is open for boarding

there’s less than ten of us on this plane. Mum did a lot of crying, for which I feel bad, but I’ve promised her I’ll stay safe and see her as soon as I can. it’s all wrapping up, without really finishing - twisting into the next chapter very quickly in the end. I don’t know where the time went? my bags were 1.2kg over, but the lady didn’t mind. as if the adventure was two years ago. aeroplane mode on now. talk soon. << 

tomorrow

I’ve been scrolling a lot these past few days. there’s something about the immediacy of the distraction the act of aimless scrolling offers from real life. in my current circumstances, I’m due to face a significant life change: this time tomorrow I’ll have migrated from my childhood home. weeks of being asked by friends and coworkers ‘how do you feel about it?’ have flown. I’ve been answering with embarrassment, saying (with a fear of sounding pretentious) that I’ve been too busy to know how to feel or what to think about the whole thing.

it’s nearly two years to the day since I left home for the adventure. those stories and characters frequent my dreams still, and skate the surface of my mind and screen often. Nash called from Brooklyn the other day after having been on his first run in his new neighbourhood. Fieke’s sending me photos from her adventures through Northern Italy. Simon re downloaded WhatsApp, and I’ve just heard from him for the first time in over a year. ‘saudade’ - the narrative compilation of my memories and dreams from that time - is being read by some of the people I trust. it doesn’t feel like two years, though in leaving again, it also feels as though it all might have happened in another reality or life altogether.

I’m left daunted by the pages before me. aware of how lucky I am and have been to have had the precious experiences and opportunities that continue to come my way, I try to face tomorrow with courage. I don’t know what the next chapter is going to bring, though I hope I’m writing the first stanza well. <<